


Fly away from here

by Waywardkitten



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Feels, Hurt/Comfort, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Soul Bond, Soulmark AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Wee!chesters, Weecest, bobby is good people, flangst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-16 03:26:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12334545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waywardkitten/pseuds/Waywardkitten
Summary: In a world where a soulmark appears on your body at the age of seventeen in a shape identical to your soulmate’s, waking up on your 17th birthday with the same exact mark as your brother may be..frowned upon





	Fly away from here

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a Wincest au challenge on [tumblr](https://waywardkitten.tumblr.com/).  
> I really hope you'll like it. Please leave a comment and let me know what you thought!
> 
> Also I rated this as an M because of mentions of and descriptions of the results of violence. ( _If you’re too young too read about sex then you’re too young to read about violence_ )

“Why can’t I see him?”

Dean refused to let up. His dad had been avoiding him all morning, muttering something about Sam being ‘very, very sick’ and needed to go to their Uncle Bobby’s to be looked after in case it was something not a hundred percent natural in the works.  
“Dad?!”

“Dammit, Dean, I said no!”

Dean let the hand holding the clumsily wrapped present fall to his side.  
“But it’s his _birthday_ ”, Dean objected in a slightly unsure tone.

John turned to him with a glare that promised torture and imminent death to anyone who dared defy him. It was a glare Dean recognised all too well; it was usually reserved for the monsters they hunt.  
“Drop. It”

His voice was poison.  
“Fine”, Dean bit out, turning on his heel and slamming the front door behind him as he stormed off. He needed a drink.

* * *

“But isn’t it fate?”

Bobby’s features were grim and focused as he skimmed the pages of an especially dusty old book.  
“How can fate be wrong? Our whole societal construct is based on it!”

Bobby kept ignoring Sam’s pleading questions, stubbornly keeping his eyes fixed on the yellowing pages.  
“Bobby.. _why_ can’t I love him?”

The old man sighed and it seemed like all the air seeped out of him.  
“I don’t know, boy”, he muttered with a deflated huff.

Sam slammed his lanky teenage body down on the couch next to Bobby’s chair and spread out with a pout.  
“It’s not fair.”

Bobby put the book on the table and leaned back in his chair with the whiskey he’d been balancing on his knee. He took a big gulp, downing the whole thing, smacking lightly and scratching at his scruff.  
“Your father won’t have it. He thinks it’s a curse or some other, or just your run of the mill H.P Lovecraft crap”

Sam snorted. He wasn’t happy with Bobby for keeping him there but the old man was obviously far from impressed with Sam’s father and Sam deemed that enough evidence to officially count Bobby as on his side.  
“You know… I was happy when I woke up and saw it..”

Bobby looked up with sadness and sympathy in his eyes, and a hint of anger as he watched Sam unconsciously stroking the angel wing on his hip through the fabric of his sweats. Sam looked away. He knew Bobby didn’t like the idea of him and Dean being soulmates. Siblings belonging to each other in that profound way was practically unheard of. But Sam also knew that Bobby knew better than to question fate, or the universe, or whatever the source behind their world’s soul mark phenomenon.  
“John is a fool”, Bobby muttered, mostly to himself.

Sam smirked.  
“So he’s not an idjit then?”

Bobby huffed.  
“Yeah, that too. Now off to bed with ya. I’ve had enough of your grumpy ass moping around here”

Sam looked down and began to make his way toward the stairs but before he could reach them Bobby called. Sam looked back.  
“..and Happy Birthday, kid”

Sam gave a small smile and then turned and made his way to the guest bedroom.

Sam startled awake tangled in the sheets at, according to the alarm clock on the bedside table, three am. The banging on the front door got louder, even through the downpour smattering on the tin roof. He tried to get up but his feet were too tangled in the sheets and he instead ended up on the floor with a loud thump and an aching butt.  
“Seriously?”

He grumbled a bit, unraveling his feet and finally getting up. The floorboards outside creaked lowly and Sam’s ears perked up.  
“Bobby?”

“Dammit, boy. Stay put!”

He could hear Bobby cocking the saw off he always kept next to his bed and his heart sank in his chest.  
“Bobby.. what the hell ar-”

“Quiet!”

There were three more loud bangs on the door in fast succession.  
“SAMMY!”

Sam’s heart didn’t leap into his throat, it damn near exploded in his chest. Sam flung himself out the door and without bestowing his increasingly annoyed uncle a single glance sprinted down the stairs.  
“Open that door, and I’ll give you something to whine about”, Bobby ground out, effectively stopping Sam mid-run.

“Bobby.. It’s Dean.. and it’s pouring..”

Bobby started down the stairs, thankfully putting the gun away.  
“But he is here in spite of John’s orders, and in the middle of the night none the less.”

He gave Sam a look of disapproval  
“Living the kind of life we do, knowing what we know.. have I taught you nothing?”

Sam felt a tinge of guilt. He should know better than to rush unquestioningly into an unknown situation like that. But the sound of Dean’s voice, especially with how wrecked it sounded was enough to make him forget his head.  
“Dean?!”, Bobby roared, close to the door, the gun still nearby if needed “Checks?!”

It was quiet for a while. Sam could hear nothing except the rain outside and the distant rumbling of the passing storm. Then from the other side came a barely there noise.  
“Yeah”

Bobby pulled a box from underneath an end table and opened it before he carefully unlocked and opened the door. Bobby made sure to stand in front of the gap, blocking Sam’s view. Bobby drew in a harsh breath but then seemed to regain his composure, shoving the box in, what Sam assumed was, Dean’s arms.  
“Don’t forget the silver knife.. Yeah, I know it sucks”

Sam waited, his whole body strung tight and his heart doing a little double take each time he heard Dean responding to Bobby.  
“Is he here? Is he okay? Please tell me he’s okay”

“He is here.. Okay, not a shapeshifter either then, great..”

He was quiet for a moment.  
“John did this?”

Sam started to get anxious. What? Their father had done what? Why wouldn’t Bobby step out of the way? Dean had proven he is himself so why? Sam got startled out of his thoughts when Bobby slammed the door frame with his closed fist.  
“God damn narrow minded, self righteous, bullheaded…-”

“..Bobby?”, Sam finally managed to choke out.

“Sam? Sam!”

Dean shoved past Bobby who stepped aside with a defeated sigh. Sam took a trembling step back, shocked to his core, making Dean stop in his tracks, suddenly unsure.  
“Wh-what happened, Dean?”

Dean was soaked from head to toe. The water running down his face from his hair tinted red as it mixed with the blood from his cut eyebrow and split lip. His eye was starting to swell shut. Something cold and evil grabbed at Sam’s stomach and twisted it. He wanted to hurl.  
“Did Dad..”

Tears stung at the corners of his eyes, threatening to escape at the sight of his big brother.  
“Yeah..” he scratched the back of his head with an apologetic quirk of the corner of his mouth “..to tell you the truth he doesn’t look so good either”

Sam looked at him with an expression like a fish out of water.  
“I got scared, okay Sammy?! He wouldn’t fucking tell me what had happened or why I couldn’t see you or talk to you and I thought something had happened to you and..” he trailed off, looking at Sam with pleading eyes.

“ _Please_ tell me you’re okay”

Sam shook himself out of his stupor and managed a twitchy nodd. He was overcome with conflicting emotions and it was beyond overwhelming; it made his mind swim. He looked to Bobby who seemed to get the picture. He closed the door, locked and bolted it and headed upstairs with a promise of ‘ _any bullshit, and you’re both out on your asses_ ’.

Sam turned and made a gesture for Dean to follow him. Once inside the guest room Sam looked through his duffel for any type of clothes that would fit his big brother.  
“Sam..?”

When he’d managed to find a pair of sweats and a t-shirt that should be big enough for Dean he started to rummage through the bathroom cabinet for towels or anything Dean could use to dry off.  
“Sam, _please_ calm down”

Sam put the towels on the bed and went back into the bathroom to look for some band aids or salves for Dean’s cuts and bruises. A pair of cold, wet but strong hands wrapped around his upper arms and then Sam finally felt how badly he was shaking.  
“Easy, tiger..” Dean turned Sam to face him, still holding him by his arms “..I’m okay. It looks worse than it is”

And something in Sam just broke. He leaned forward to burrow his head against Dean’s clavicle, gripping his shirt hard and bunching it up in his fists as he sobbed against his brother’s skin.  
“He took one look at it and then he wouldn’t look at me again.. he forced me to pack and for the whole way here he refused to look at me or even say one word.. Not even one word, Dean!”

Dean shushed him gently, wrapping one arm around Sam’s shoulders and cradling the back of his head in the other.  
“He took one look at what, Sam? What happened? He said you were sick”

Sam pushed away from Dean, his sadness now replaced with a fiery anger.  
“He said I was _what_?!”

Dean grabbed him and pulled him back into his embrace.  
“Calm, Sammy.. calm breaths.. I’m just so happy you’re alright..tell me what happened”

Sam sniffed and pulled back, looking up at Dean through tear soaked lashes as he pulled up his sweatshirt a couple of inches and then pulled down the hem of his sweatpants, exposing the skin of his hip. Dean’s eyes boggled at first. He stepped in close, reaching out a tentative hand to let the pads of his fingers skim the black skin.

Sam swallowed thickly, squeezing his eyes together; too afraid to look, too afraid of the believed rejection he would see in his brother’s eyes.  
“Sammy..”

Sam’s eyes snapped open. Dean’s voice sounded almost admiring, in awe. Sam looked down to where Dean had unzipped his jeans and pulled them down to expose the identical angel wing on his hip, holding it close to Sam’s to admire the matching set.

The kiss that followed had Sam’s blood rushing in his ears and his heart exploding a thousand times more. It was wet and dry at the same time and far from refined. Dean’s lips were chapped and Sam was too sloppy with his tongue. But it was warm, and home, and everything right in the world.

It wasn’t perfect; It was belonging.


End file.
